


Granted

by SerpentineJ



Series: Olicolm: 25 Days of OTP [4]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Fluff, I'm all caught up!, M/M, Olicolm, Presents, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerpentineJ/pseuds/SerpentineJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>4. Shopping for and/or wrapping gifts. Olicolm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Granted

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: All the crossover. (Not really, I just use Amy Pond from DW as Malcolm’s sister because it was mentioned he has a niece but was never specified upon that I know of and they’re just easier than making an entire family of OCs.) Just pretend The Angels Take Manhattan never happened and River was never taken from Amy and Rory.

**4\. Shopping for and/or wrapping gifts.**

Ollie grins and shoves his hands in his pockets, watching Malcolm amusedly. 

“It doesn’t make sense!” Tucker is gesturing exasperatedly at a product on the shelf. 

Reeder glances into their trolley. “Is this what your shopping is always like?” He asks. “Bags of satsumas and shouting at shitty sale items?”

“Not typically.” The silver-haired man tosses a box of frozen meals in the cart. “People tend to look at you funny of you walk alone around the supermarket, shouting at the aisles.”

Ollie sighs and pushes the trolley, steering it and Malcolm into the next row. 

“So. Christmas shopping?”

~~~~~~

When Ollie walks into their home (well, it’s not really their home, his name isn’t on the lease, but he’s been practically living here for a while now), the last thing he expects to see is Malcolm Tucker seated in the middle of the rug in the living room, the table moved to the side of the room, scraps of wrapping paper strewn across the carpet.

“What the…” he says, throwing his bag on the sofa and crouching down beside his boyfriend. “Did a tornado come through here with a grudge against wrapping paper?”

“Sod off.” Tucker is frowning, practically pouting uncharacteristically childishly at the mess before him. Ollie sees a few boxes scattered in the middle of the festive wreck.

He peers at the stuff littering the ground and frowns, a disbelieving grin taking over his face, and says, “Does this wrapping paper have penises on it?”

“Yeah.” Malcolm says distractedly, cutting a new piece of paper and yanking at the roll of tape with a vengeance. “I’ve got a whole collection, use a different one every year.”

Ollie sees him begin to mangle the newly cut paper. He sighs and sits down, taking Tucker’s hands in his and gently detangling the mess. “Here.”

They lapse into silence, Reeder wrapping the small parcels and Tucker tying ribbons (well, he is very good with rope, Ollie mentally smirks). 

~~~~~~

Malcolm sprawls out on the floor, sighing. “Honestly. The amount of effort that goes into this stupid holiday.”

“I quite like it.” Ollie lays down beside him, resting his head on the other’s upper arm. “It’s a month out of the year when everything smells like gingerbread and the lights blink in shop windows…” He glances upwards, grinning. “Christmas and New year’s parties are really fun as well.”

Tucker scoffs and smirks down at him, eyes warm.

After a few minutes of silence, Malcolm speaks again. “I never liked Christmas when I was young.” He says, and the man beside him looks up, sees the sadness etched on his face.   
“Mum and Dad were always fighting, and all the happy families and the holiday trope…” The man sighs. “I fucking hated it. So did Amy.”

“Amy?”

“My sister.” He pauses. “Married, one daughter. Mel’s paintings are hung up in my office.”

Ollie raises his eyebrows. “That’s where those came from.”

“Where did you think they came from?” Malcolm scoffs, tracing circles on Ollie’s shoulder with his fingertips. 

“Well, it’s not like you’re the most artistic person…”

He receives a slap on the head for that. “Shut the fuck up, Reeder.”

Ollie smiles and snuggles deeper into Tucker’s side, wrapping an arm around a bony waist. 

There’s a few minutes where the only sound is the whistling of the wind outside and Malcolm speaks up again. “It’s… nicer now. The holidays, I mean.”

“Why’s that?”

He looks down, a soft smile spreading across his face. “I’m not alone.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comment? 
> 
> Also, I think domestic!Malcolm would be less... composed than political!Malcolm. Less... shouty.


End file.
